Firewhisky Memory
by A Random Bowser
Summary: QLFC Round 1 (BYE) His home was not a pleasant place made for pleasant memories. It had always been dark, always filled with anger and violence, only touched ever so briefly with love. First with his parents and now with him, and Severus Snape saw no reason to change it. Indeed, he only ever visits the place but once a year.
_**Prompt**_

 **Round 1 - Where My Death Eaters At?**

 **CHASER 1:** Write about your chosen Death Eater being at home

 **Characters/Pairing:** Severus Snape

 **Prompts:** 1\. (song) 'Figure 8' by Ellie Goulding, 4. (dialogue) "I really do like the pants.", 9. (emotion) Anger

 **Word Count (-AN):** 1561, MSW

 **Note:** I did not run this story though a beta as this is the BYE round for the Holyhead Harpies so the only one who will judge it or my teammates, and anyone else who reads it. If it matters, I do not own Harry Potter in any form, except for the hard back copies of the books that sit on my shelf and they bring me no money.

His home was not a pleasant place made for pleasant memories. It had always been dark, always filled with anger and violence, only touched ever so briefly with love. First with his parents and now with him, and Severus Snape saw no reason to change it. Indeed, he only ever visits the place but once a year.

* * *

 _ **Firewhisky Memory**_

It was unusual to find him at home, even more so to find him with a shot glass and bottle of whisky. His robes had long since been discarded thrown into the corner of the dreary main room alongside two bottles of wine. All three items were worse for wear, what with them having been thrown, with surprising accuracy considering how much he had drunk when compared to how much he usually didn't drink, one after another, the robe landing on top of the shatter glass and soaking up what wine had been left to spill out of the bottles.

His colleagues, except for the two that knew him best, would be surprised at his loosening control, his vulnerability and display of emotions. For he was known for being a cold man, always in control, both of himself and of his environment. He was as paranoid as the most grizzled auror, though he hid it better. Severus Snape wouldn't trust the world enough to relax his guard, even with the Dark Lord long dead and it being summer where there were no duties to call on him.

This was a known fact.

And for the most part they would be correct, except for tonight, the one night of every year when he allowed the dark deep emotions that burned so deeply in his heart and mind that they made a most solid shield. There was love, always love. Love that he had chased after but never received. Unrequited love that would always haunt him, hurt him. There was also anger, a smoldering rage that burned anything that touched yet. Anger at her. Anger at him. Anger for her, for himself, but most of all anger at that, that…that abominable brat that forever separated him from her. A roar of frustration was absorbed by the walls of the room as the shot glass, thankfully empty as he had decided to drink straight from the bottle before he had opportunity to pour a shot, smashed against the wall, its parts landing on the robe.

He had always hoped that _his_ Lily would see the truth. That she would realize that the detestable man she married was simply using her to needle the nasty Slytherin. Lily was nothing more than that man's obsession. The foul man couldn't love her, and one day she would be discarded by him for someone younger, prettier, more useful. When that happened he would be there, ready to comfort his love. And then they go and have a child together. _A CHILD! A bouncing baby brat!_

 _SMASH_

Pieces of the not yet empty bottle joined the heap in the corner, liquid tracing down the walls like the bloody tears he wasn't smashed enough to cry. How he abhorred that child.

The walk to the bar was slow and staggered. While there was little in the way of furniture to hinder his path there was also little for him to lean on to keep from falling. His home was not a pleasant place made for pleasant memories. It had always been dark, always filled with anger and violence, only touched ever so briefly with love. First with his parents and now with him, and Severus Snape saw no reason to change it.

He leaned against the bar as the world swayed slightly around him. Perhaps he had had more to drink than was usual, but the boy, no the abomination, would be turning eleven today. That was reason enough to celebrate. Ten years of peace for the world, eleven years of misery for him…Yes, another drink was called for.

He had heard from McGonagall that Dumbledore had left the abomination with Lily's sister. Actually her words had been more along the lines of, "the most despicable example of muggles I have ever seen, I don't know what he was thinking," with a good deal of slurring, seeing as the transfiguration had been drinking at that point, but he was not an idiot. There was only one family that Dumbledore could have placed the brat with that met that description that would have been close to Lily, for that man would have never lowered himself enough to talk to a muggle.

'Maybe I should send her a gift,' he pondered as he reached into the cabinet and pulled out his last bottle of…something. It didn't really matter all that much as he was already twisting the top off and taking a drink, sputtering at the taste. 'Something that says sorry you got stuck with the brat that should have never been born.' He chuckled to himself as the thought snuck its way into his head.

He slumped back down onto the couch, leaning back, his head tilted slightly as he took another drink, his eyes focused on the single picture that decorated the room, the entire house really. It was a muggle photo, and though he couldn't remember the name or the face to the person who had taken it for him, the rest of the memory….

Another drink.

A ragged breath.

And a single tear slipped down the worn face of Severus Snape from a closed eyelid. The bottle slipping from his fingers as he embraced the memory of a time when he had once felt hope.

Surprisingly it had been after graduation, the war was fully going and the two of them were fighting on different sides. It was her birthday and they had met in muggle London at a nondescript coffee shop, it was really the only safe place for either of them to meet at the time. After ordering coffee and pastries, they had proceeded to sit in silence for a good ten minutes, though in his mind it had felt like much, much longer.

"So…nice pants," it had been Lily with her Gryffindor bravery that had started the conversation off, after tearing her muffin into smaller than bite sized pieces.

Severus had flushed, embarrassed. He had done his best to dress nice for the occasion, much to the jeering of his cohorts, and for some reason the comment had him feeling inadequate. Still, it had worked to get a somewhat awkward conversation going, and slowly things became more relaxed between the two of them. Lily had always had a smart tongue and a slightly cruel sense of humor, for all that she was known to be loving and kind hearted, and it went well with his dry sarcasm. Another tear slipped out as he remembered the way she had laughed at some of the stories he had told, nothing incriminating or revealing, they both had been careful about that, but funny moments that he knew his cohorts had not meant to have shared.

He had known that Lily would enjoy them, and she had. Her head had been thrown back, her eyes closed and streaming tears, as laughter poured from her mouth and her long loose hair had tumbled down her back and over her shoulders. In that moment she had been at her most beautiful.

How long they had stayed there, talking, laughing, together, he didn't know. He hadn't bothered to keep track of the time, not with her, never with her. It had ended though, as all things must. He had apologized for what he had said all those years ago. He had tried to explain, but he had held back, not wanting her to know how weak he had been as a boy, how desperate for approval and acceptance. She had looked at him, a darkness replacing the laughter in her eyes.

"I know," she had said. "I know."

Then she had taken a deep breath and slid out of the booth, and he had thought that this was it, this would be all the time he would ever have. He was preparing himself for the pain that he would feel when she walked out the door, when she stepped beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I can't say that I will ever understand why, but you were my friend Severus. My first friend. A person never lets someone that special go, no matter how many times they are betrayed or hurt by them. You will always be my friend and you will always have a place in my heart." Her words had been so soft, so gently spoken, that he had been afraid to look at her, knowing that she would see the gleam of tears in his eyes. Instead he had stubbornly fixated on the table and his equally shredded croissant. Even as she had leaned close, whispering in his ear before kissing him softly on the cheek and leaving.

That had been the last time he had seen her outside of battle before, and even now her parting words lingered in his mind.

"I really do like the pants." It had been a whisper. It had been enough.

Severus Snape never sobbed, never wailed, never made a scene, even within his own home, but he did cry. One night of every year, on the night when her son had been born. On the night when he had known that even if for some reason the two of them made it through the war they were caught in he would not have her love. On that night, this night, he remembered, he raged, he hated, and…he cried.


End file.
